The Wheel Turns...

Everything cycles, I suppose. Or so teach many of the Great Traditions and who am I to dispute them?

I have gone for a few days sleeping very little, instead just thinking. You know, about stuff. I think about life. I think about travels. I think about karma. I think about friends and family. I turn over old stories, funny and sad. I think about thinking. I dream up ideas.

I'm actually quite content with it. It's what I know.

The day before Mother's Day, I had a very long conversation with my Mom. We talked about all kinds of things and caught up. Then the conversation moved to what I am doing with myself. At one point we talked about how I was as a child. I explained to her how I would lie awake at night at the first house we lived in in Bloomington, between the ages of 5 and 7, thinking about how minutes were slipping past. And hours. And days. And how they would never return. I don't know why I thought about those things at that age. I remembered bits of an "episode" in our small front yard when I freaked out because someone rode past on a bike and I didn't get to see their face. I wanted to chase after them to meet them because I knew I would never see them again and that opportunity would be lost. My Mom had to hold me and calm me down.

I guess I would lie awake at night when I was a toddler, too. Apparently I didn't cry much about it, instead just staring off. Or standing up, waiting at the edge of the crib. My Dad told me of waking to see me standing at the edge of the crib, looking across the hall at them sleeping. He just quietly waved at me and went back to sleep.

I would be terrified of such a creepy kid, peering off into the darkness silently or staring at me while I slept.

My parents took it in stride.

My Mom said they chose to call me "quirky" and thought maybe I would be the next Einstein.

I thanked her for using "quirky" rather than "crazy".

I should probably say thanks again because I'm sure they probably still use words like "quirky" when talking with each other or friends about me. Thanks guys.

It's funny that my friends seem to know me so well. I received a comment from Jeff the other day, saying that he always thinks of me when he hears this song and sent me this clip:



Back to the topic at hand...

Sleep is still a struggle for me. I feel like going to sleep is giving up. Throwing in the towel for the day. Maybe not always consciously I think that there is usually something else to be squeezed out of the day. Every last drop. Until it is bone dry.

Am I actually getting something grand out of each day? Nah. Not always. Sometimes it just ends up being wasted time. But I have lived this way for so long, I don't know what else to do. It is comfortable. I run pretty well each day on less. In fact, 8 hours of sleep kind of tires me out.

But this only goes on for so long. My mind and personality may think it is great, but my body and brain don't always agree.

I have two whole days off right now. I can do anything I want.

You know what I've decided to do with it?

Sleep.

I slept in, then ate some breakfast and went back to bed. I lounged around a bit, took a shower, ate some lunch (to any grandmothers reading this, I have taken good care of myself today), and am writing this. Then I'm going to take a nap before embarking on something adventurous for the night.

There was a lot I could have done with my time. There is a lot I could be productive with. But this feels right.

The best part? Other than coming up with this stuff to shout out into the void, I've hardly thought at all today.

And it has been nice...